


A Sam Imagine

by ToscaRossetti



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Nightmare, Wendigo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 12:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11357421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToscaRossetti/pseuds/ToscaRossetti
Summary: SUPERNATURAL Imagine:  Imagine having a nightmare and asking Sam if you can sleep in his room.





	A Sam Imagine

 

I woke up suddenly, biting back a scream, trembling and drenched in sweat. I had dreamed about the Wendigo again. Even though I was a seasoned hunter who had fought and killed my share of supernatural creatures, every once in a while there was one that stuck in my mind. 

I had been in its lair with Sam and Dean and we had been working on freeing the people who were tied up there. It was a family of hikers, and they were all terrified. I had had to work on keeping them calm and quiet while trying to loosen their bonds. 

The Wendigo had some into the cave, making its unearthly growling sounds, and had come after us. Dean had fought it off so that Sam and I could keep working on getting the family to safety. 

But with its superhuman strength it had thrown Dean across the cave and then come after us. I had come face-to-face with it for a moment, and that moment was etched in my mind-- it seemed to stretch on forever.

The legend was that Wendigos had once been human, but they had turned evil after having to resort to cannibalism. As I had stood there facing it, for that moment that was stretching into eternity, I had locked eyes with it, and it had seemed like I had seen a brief flash of its humanity. Then it had reached for me and opened its mouth and I had seen the horrible sharp teeth and smelled its stinking breath...and I had been jerked backwards and then pushed behind Sam. 

Dean had killed it with a flare gun, and the noises it made as it burned up had been spine-chilling. I kept thinking about how it had once been human, had once possibly had a family and a job and a life. 

I couldn't let it go, and had tried to talk to the guys about it, but I don't think they got it. They saw it as a monster through-and-through. I guess they'd been doing the job for so long that they didn't consider things like that any more- and really, you couldn't, because having compassion in a case like this could result in people dying or being injured. 

I rolled over in bed and tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't, I was still too keyed up. My heart was still pounding and I felt, absurdly, like crying. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, then I left my room and walked down the hall to Sam's room. 

I tapped on the door, feeling slightly guilty.

“Yeah?” he called, and I opened the door and went in.

He was sitting up in bed, and he blinked slowly at me with heavy-lidded eyes. I felt more guilty, I had half expected him to still be up, reading or researching. 

“What's up, y/n?” he asked in a voice that was thick with sleep. 

“I, uh, I had a nightmare again...” I told him in a low voice, “The, uh, the Wendigo...”

“Oh, yeah, those things can be really scary the first time you see them,” He reached up and scratched his head, making his sleep-rumpled hair rumple even more. 

“Can I, uh, can I sleep with you?” I asked hesitantly.

He held his arm out to me. “Sure, come here,” he said. 

I slowly approached him, and he stood up. 

He was wearing a plain white v-neck t-shirt and a pair of blue plaid sleep pants.

He took me into his arms as I walked up to him, and hugged me for a moment, then pulled back. “You're soaked,” he said. 

He walked over to his dresser and pulled out something, then handed it to me after he came back over. 

It was one of his ginormous t-shirts. Sometimes he and Dean would let me wear their shirts to bed, they made great sleep shirts because both of them were so tall that the shirts came down to mid-thigh on me. 

He sat down on the bed and averted his eyes, and I turned my back and changed out of my pajajma top and shorts, placing them on the armchair in the corner. We were comfortable enough changing clothes in front of each other because we'd had to be in various states of undress when treating each other's wounds. 

I pulled his shirt over my head and turned back. Sam had gotten under the covers and moved over in bed, and was holding the blankets up for me. I walked over and got in next to him, and pulled the covers up as I laid down.

I turned my head towards him, “Thanks, Sam,” I said gratefully. Then I looked up at the ceiling.

“Hey,” he said gently, and he lifted his arm and started to move it over my head, surprising me, and I lifted myself up so that he could slide his arm behind me. Then I turned on my side and snuggled into him. 

I felt his arm around me, and he said, “When I first started going on hunts with Dean, I'd be pretty shaken up sometimes...but I was a lot younger. And there were times I'd sleep all curled up against him because I was so freaked.”

I looked up at him. “He let you sleep with him?”

“Yeah, we grew up sharing tiny motel rooms and even a bed sometimes if Dad couldn't afford a big room. And Dean always knew when something had gotten to me.” 

“That's nice,” I said. Sam and Dean's close relationship was something that I envied sometimes, but I knew that their childhood had been rough, and their closeness was due to how they grew up, not just because they were brothers. 

I closed my eyes and tried to relax, listening to his breathing slow down and even out. His body was warm and I could faintly smell the laundry soap on his shirt. 

The cave was dark and I was alone, arms and legs tied up, and I struggled as the Wendigo came close to me, and I felt its hot breath on my face as it opened it mouth---

“Wake up,” I heard Sam's voice, “Y/n, wake up, you're dreaming.”

I opened my eyes- I was on the edge of the bed, on my side facing out, and I felt Sam's hand on my shoulder. 

“C'mere,” he said quietly, and I rolled over. He was on his side facing me, and he reached out and took me in his arms, pulling me against his chest. I noticed that little bit of his chest hair peeked out from the v-neck of his white t-shirt. 

I took a deep shuddering breath and then exhaled.

“That's right, let it out, you're safe,” he murmured. I felt his hand on the back of my head, guiding my head down onto his chest. “You're safe, it was just a dream...” 

I slid my arms around his chest and closed my eyes, I did feel safe with him. 

I felt his hand rubbing gently up and down my back in slow, even strokes. He hummed quietly, and I recognized the tune but couldn't put my finger on it. 

“What is that song?” I lifted my head to look at him. 

“I don't know, some old song that my dad used to hum when he was putting us to bed, when we were little, and he was around...”

I laid my head back down on his chest. “Thanks again, Sam,” I said gratefully.

“No problem,” he said, “Try to go back to sleep, we've got a big day of research tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah, you're right.” I snuggled into him and felt his arms tighten around me.

He lowered his head so that it was resting on mine. I closed my eyes, and I was able to sleep through the night without any more nightmares, feeling safe and protected in Sam's arms.


End file.
